Changed
by Ronnie
Summary: Harry's changed. He's not the warm person he used to be. Draco is… scared. Features Angsty!Harry and uh... Helpless!Draco. (DM/HP slash and mild sexual content.)


Title: Changed  
  
Rating: R  
  
Author: Ronnie Shatz  
  
Summary: Harry's changed. He's not the warm person he used to be. Draco is… scared.  
  
  
  
A/N: First semi smut fic. My lawd, what happened to me?! I wrote… SMUT! *screams with terror* It's nothing real bad, you know, but… a whole world different than my G rated fics, obviously. I really like the fics where Harry acts like this. Lol I'm sure everyone's read one. I've read a couple. This is not graphic enough to be a vizzy, thank God, so I still have my dignity intact. PLEASE review. I want to know how I did with this. :D My apologize for the grammar mistakes in the story.  
  
Warnings: SLASH content! As in, Male/Male relationship and more than kissing. MILD sexual content.  
  
Pairing: DM/HP  
  
E mail for comments and other fluffy things: sh_renana@hotmail.com  
  
IM for talking: LadyRowana 2nd  
  
ENJOY!  
  
  
  
A vertigo surrounded him. It swallowed him and swirled the world around him in a blur of colors. He couldn't think, he couldn't speak, he couldn't see. He could just feel. Feel the amazing sensation of the warm tongue caressing his neck and making its way down to his collar bone, down to his chest, down to his navel. But even through the haze of feelings that surrounded him he could sense that the tongue that caressed his body was not tender. It was not soft, it was not warm. Cold and hard and slicing it was, even though immensely pleasurable. So pleasurable. Ripples of wonderful feeling swept through his body and for a minute, he was that feeling. He tried resisting it, fighting it off and ignoring it, not wanting something as pure and as beautiful as that feeling to be connected with the roughness that! characterized the tongue and hands that were smoothly wracking over his body. Fight. Resist!  
  
"Are you enjoying this, Malfoy?" asked a voice from down his body, snapping him away from his revive. It was cold and slicing, just like the wind that blew outside of the room. It made his heart tug. That voice dug through his body like thousands of knifes that made their way into his insides, ignoring the pain that they were causing him, having only one cause. Hurting him. He didn't respond and continued staring at the ceiling with blind eyes. Warm touch. Pleasure. "Are you, Malfoy? Am I causing you pleasure? Does it hurt you that I am pleasing you? Is it beneath you?" once again he said nothing. Tongue caressed his skin, just above the waistline of his boxers and a hand tugged on it, hiking it downwards. He hitched a quick breath and concentrated on something beyond that amazing feeling that became him. Jesus, just ignore it. Don't let him see you… "Stop fighting it. You know you want me to get this over with… take it home, done with. You want me to finish you off…" he licked the tender skin above the waistline one again. His touch held the same roughness as his words. He then breathed onto the delicate spot beneath his belly button where the skin was red and raw, aroused. He bit back the moan that threatened to slip from within him, already standing in his throat. Please don't slip. A black head raised and green eyes looked at him evilly, a dangerous glint in them. He smiled bitterly, a twisted gesture that looked humorless and unhappy, scary. A shudder rippled through his body. The smile widened. The dizzy, sweeping feeling that was the pleasure subsided now, allowing him to think straight.  
  
   
  
"Why are you doing this?" he questioned softly, raising his head slightly and gazing into the pair of green eyes before him. Questioning filled his eyes, wonder, and fear. A little bit of fear. Why was he scared? Why was he scared when he knew that the man lying on top of him would never hurt him? But did he? Did he know now? That dangerous glint in those green eyes said other wise. That dangerous, slightly sadistic smile said other wise, said that the man would hurt him in a second. And fear stood in his eyes, something he swore would never happen. He would never fear that man, he would never be scared of him but now… he found it hard sticking to his vow. The head bowed over his body once again and the warm touch of a tongue over his skin returned and with it returned the vertigo that clouded his mind. What did he th! ink a moment ago? Did it make sense? Did it matter?  
  
   
  
Yes, yes, it mattered. It wasn't like him to be like this, so… evil. So sadistic, so hurting. He was always so tender, so soft, as if scared to hurt him with his touches, treating him like he would treat a delicate porcelain doll. Afraid to break it.  
  
   
  
"Why not, Malfoy? Why not do this? You don't like me touching you? You always did." A hand snaked into his boxer shorts and grabbed his manhood. He gave a loud, short, breathless gasp. Dear God it felt good. And yet, so bad. So wrong. Nothing like the wonderful, amazing feeling that was making love. This was not making love. This was fucking. His eyelids fluttered to a close over his grey eyes and he breathed hard, moaning helplessly as the hand inside his boxers stroked him. Thoughts escaped him, words disappeared from his mouth. He wished he could ignore the feeling. He wished he could stop the pleasure that rippled through his body. He wanted to ignore the warmth in his lower abdomen, beneath his waistline, underneath his boxers. He wanted to ignore the scorching heat of the tongue that caressed him. So painful. And he could not do a thing but surrender to it and let it wash over him in large waves. He wanted to disappear. Melt into the wood of the table beneath him, into the wood like water into the sand. The wood was hard against him, pressing against his body, paining him. Pain from above and pain from bellow. The hand inside his boxers moved and groped around. He bit back a scream. Green eyes watched him as a hand stroked his inner thigh, knowing everything, what he felt, what he wanted, what he needed. They knew his pain, his desires. It scared him. Fear overshadowed the great pleasure in his lower half for a moment but then the hand grabbed something and he jerked forward in an involuntary spasm. His back then fell against the table with a muffled thud but the feeling inside him muffled the pain. He wasn't aware of anything. He didn't know. Nothing. "That's right. Let go, Draco. Just let go…" the words lacked the tenderness that the moment asked, such an intimate touch that as if waited for the intimate words to complete it. It wasn't an urge to let go for his own sake, for his release, but for the sadistic and evil pleasure of the man above him. The smile of the man's lips said everything. Everything. His eyes widened as realization hit him. The man was thriving off his pain. His emotional and physical pain. He had changed. Changed beyond belief.  
  
   
  
"Harry… please… " he begged, closing his eyes against the tears that stood in his eyes. His eyes burned with the stinging of those tears. An image was imprinted on the inside of his eyelids, never leaving him. An image of twinkling green eyes and bright, lighted smile. Of black hair that falls into beautiful pale face. The face of a man, lips stretched in a beaming grin, hands wrapped around the waist of another man, blonde and fair, his skin light, tenderness standing in his eyes. He missed those men. He missed them and their relationship, their love. The tenderness and softness between them seemed long gone and the sweet embraces they shared seemed distant, strange. Feelings he once knew were now a lie, a mockery of true love. He felt as if his feelings, his own personal feelings, were mocking him and laughing at hi! m, making fun of everything he once thought true. His eyes opened, holding a pleading look in them, urging the man atop of him to hear his plea and change. Change once again, back into the man he was before, the man he loved. But, a cold green look was returned, lacking any emotions. It hurt. It hurt so bad.  
  
   
  
"Harry please, what, Draco? What? You're going to beg me now? Beg me to go faster, Draco. Beg me to go faster and harder. Tell me you want me. Me, Draco. Tell me you want me and tell me you know you can't have me. Come on, tell me!" the anger in his voice burned onto the blonde's skin. A surprised gasp escaped his lips as the hand in his boxers squeezed him almost painfully. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he moaned. Unable to stop it from slipping, the moan that he released into the air rang in the room, a sign of his defeat. He fought and fought against the hands of his former lover, now hater, and tears fell from his eyes as he stood on the brink of release, not really there, but almost beyond it. His breathes came in short ragged gaps and the tears that streamed down his face blurred his vision. They were salty on his tongue as he licked them away from the corners of his mouth. Harry raised his eyes and looked at him, spotting his tears. A smile stretched his features, an evil, slow smile, and he pulled himself towards Draco's face, his hand still stroking. He placed his lips to Draco's face and licked away the tears. The gesture was meant to be a display of his control over Draco and not tender like one would think. Harry's eyes were opened as he stared down at the irises in front of him, never wavering. Green met grey and pain met anger and hate… and something else. Something unreadable and unknown. Another feeling was there, but in a second it was gone. Draco could have sworn he saw love in those eyes. But it was gone and hardness and coldness were back. And so was the pain. Harry's grip tightened, Draco yelled out. Hot liquid shot out of him.  
  
   
  
"Harry!" he called out, breathlessly, unable to stop the surge of feelings that raced through his body. Harry's smile widened. He watched with pleasure as Draco's body shook with the last waves of his orgasm. "Oh God… Harry!" Draco wanted to cry and slap himself for his words, for the sounds he made, for the syllables that he uttered. He wanted to be silent and passive and cold and ignore it but he couldn't. Not when Harry was involved. Harry the man he loved. He loved the Before Harry and the After Harry. Before and after what, he did not know. He just knew that something changed the black haired man, his man, and that he was to his Before self like night was to day. Complete opposites. Different in the way they held themselves, the way they talked, looked, slept… everything. He missed the Before Harry with all his heart but somehow, somehow he knew that no matter how hard he fought, that Harry would never be back. It hurt him. It hurt him more than anything that had happened that night. The humiliation that surged through him, the pain of betrayal and the coldness of his former lover. Harry leaned close to the blonde's face and pushed a strand of his hair away from his face, tucking it behind his ear. No emotions showed on his face, even not in his smile, that was wide and large and threatened to split his face in two. He licked the skin above Draco's ear and sighed with some content.  
  
   
  
"You're mine, Draco. Mine. Don't you ever forget that, because I have power over you. Over your heart, over your body, over your mind. And every time we will fuck you will know that. That you are mine and that with one simple touch I can make you do whatever I want." As if to demonstrate his words, he ran a hand up Draco's forearm, over the dark skull planted on the fair skin, sprouting shades of venomous greens and blacks, the serpent which wrapped itself around the it hissing soundlessly, watching with cold satisfaction as the blonde shivered under his fingers. "See? One touch is all I need, and you're mine. Does it disgust you, to know that a no one like Harry Potter has power over the big and mighty Draco Malfoy? Son of Lucious Malfoy, Heir of the Dark side, Death Eater extraordinar. Does it hurt you? To know that I'm stronger than you? That Mark, Draco, is what sets us apart. Evil and good. You and me. Darkness and light. I was blind to that, Draco. Blind to that and to the darkness inside you, and the darkness inside me. But no more. No more. I won't waste my life over you anymore!" he spat out the words like they tasted bad and turned his angry green eyes away from Draco's grey ones, scolding himself for losing his cool. A moment later, he returned his gaze to the blonde's face, walls in tact and in place, cold demeanor on.  
  
   
  
"You're staring at me like I'm the scariest thing you've ever faced." He chuckled to himself, seemingly satisfied with that. "Good. I always knew you were smart. Because I am. I am the scariest person, thing, situation, you ever had to deal with. I know your deepest secrets and I will not hesitate to use them against you. People like you… people like you got my friends killed. People like you, Death Eaters, who got my friends and so many, killed. Did you kill people, Draco? Did you raise your wand and uttered the killing curse, cold as damn ice? Did you look into the eyes of those people, the people that you killed, stole the life from, and saw the fear that they felt at the sight of you? Did you fight alongside your Father, Draco? Did you stand on his side, watching his every move and not saying a word, like you always did? Or did you speak up, contributed to the act of killing? Did you?!" his fiery gaze scorched Draco as he stared up with fear bubbling inside him. This was no the Harry he knew. This was some… some… thing, that came home instead of his Harry! What have they done to him, out there? What happened that made him be like that? What horrible things? Draco shook his head quickly and pleaded Harry with his eyes, seeking the Before Harry underneath the jumbles and scars that were the After Harry. The rough front, cold, freezing, was intimidating but Draco fought against all hope. Against all hope of having the Before Harry back.  
  
   
  
"Harry I… never did I… I had no choice!" he cried, sobbing desperately. Weak. He was so damn weak that it made him sick. But he couldn't think of life without Harry in them. During the three months period when Harry was away in battle, Draco wasn't alive. Not really. He breathed and he functioned but something was missing. And when he was forced to stand and watch as Harry was captured, hidden behind a white mask and a dark robe, he died. He had died that moment and returned to life when Harry stepped through the door of their joined home. He fled the scene after Harry was taken away by five masked figures, not even bothering to make up an excuse, just running away from there. He then informed the Aurors and returned home, cursing his cowardice and lack of action. If only he had done something. He noticed the difference in Harry when the latter stepped into the house. There was a new scared look in his eyes. Something happened. He swallowed the lump in his throat now and shook his head, wisps of silvery hair falling into his eyes. Harry had to understand! "I had no choice… he said he would… he said he would –"  
  
   
  
"I don't care what he said. I really don't. I don't need your excuses or your damn pathetic lies, Death Eater. Fuck, I can't even touch you right now. You disgust me, Draco Malfoy. You stand for everything I ever hated. You stand for everything I stand against. I fought against your kind, I killed people of your kind and here I am, wanting to fuck you. What did you do to me? You're a cold son of a bitch, Draco, and you deserve nothing better than what you are getting right now. You deserve nothing better than to be treated like the cold fuck that you are, the damn Death Eater that you are, the damn man that you are. I don't know how I ever loved you. I don't know how I ever felt something soft and tender towards you, Draco Malfoy, because there isn't a thing that that is soft and tender in you. You don't deserve my love or my trust. I hate you. I hate you with all my heart. I hate you with the some passion that I once loved you. Before I knew who you are." And with that he detached himself from Draco and stood up before the wooden table, the light from behind him creating a halo around his black hair. For some reason, it made him look more devious. Draco stared, half naked, as Harry walked away from him without giving him a second glance, mumbling incoherently. He then lifted his body and propped himself on his elbows, wincing as pain shot up his body. Ow. He was going to be sore for days, and every time pain would come, it would remind him of the emotional pain that he had suffered when Harry practically raped him. Emotionally and physically. Harry's words had hurt him, deeply. Which each word, he stuck another arrow in Draco's heart, killing him from inside. He never imagined words could hurt so badly, but they did. They did.  
  
They hurt more than actions, more than being hit by a curse. He forced himself to sit up on the cold table. Dizziness took over him and the world swirled around him for a moment before falling back into place. His bare skin glistened with sweat and the smell of sex, stood in the room. On their dining table, non the less. When Harry wanted to make a point, he made a point. He wanted to show Draco that he could take him where he wanted him, when he wanted him. The point had been made. Every muscle in his body sore, Draco slowly made his way towards the second story bathroom, struggling with every step that he took. He closed his eyes against the pain in his lower half and began to make his way upstairs. Every step, every stair, was torturing. He swayed slightly and his hand reached out to grab at the railing, seeking support. Once standing straight, he continued up the stairs. Down the corridor and then to the left. He paused before the open door of the bedroom where Harry slept now, holding back pained tears. There was no one in the room, one lone bed standing in the middle of it, red spreading covering it, its golden trimmings catching the light from above. And suddenly, Harry's face stared at him from within the room. He froze and looked down, not daring to meet the black haired man's eyes. A soft sound made him raise his eyes against his will. What he saw shocked him.  
  
Tears were spilling down Harry Potter's cheeks as he stared at the blonde man in front of him. Emotions mixed on his face. Regret, sorrow, pain and… compassion. He took a step forward but Draco inched away, his back colliding with the wall in a painful thud. Harry looked crestfallen. Draco watched him for a second and then turned away and fled to the security of his own room. As he fell onto the bed, crying helplessly, he couldn't help but think that maybe, somehow, there was still some hope. 


End file.
